Brute, Part 3

Hold it. Whoa, yeah, OK, so in case you didn't notice, this is PART 3. That means you may have missed the other two installments of "Brute". I'll give you a few minutes to catch up. You're welcome. -m
Brute, Part 1
Brute, Part 2

Leandra and Jeremiah were in the backyard talking, and I watched them from inside the house with an eyebrow raised . I had left the glass door open so as to avoid any comedic accidents in the event that Jeremiah went berserk again.

The sun was gone now, leaving only a few pinkish remnants of light over the mountains. If I stood on the very edge of the threshold I could see the orange moon rising higher in the sky. Now that Jeremiah was sitting there being all canine-like, I made a face at the moon, feeling ridiculous for thinking it was somehow responsible for all this.

Bouncing on my toes, I watched Leandra pat her new dog on the head, smile, and say something in his ear. I didn't really feel like venturing out there, so I stood on the brink of inside and outside, waiting. The first thing I had done when I'd gone inside was grab my phone out of my bag on the couch. I was flipping it over and over in my hand; it was strangely reassuring to hear the plastic smack against my palm. The time for helping my sister move out was way past; I had already texted her and explained things. Sort of. I hadn't been very specific.

Leandra suddenly stood and came toward me. I moved aside and she brushed past me as she wiped her cheek with her hand. The look I gave her must have been sufficiently quizzical, because she made a face as she got some water from the kitchen.

"He licked me," she said as she wiped her hand on her jeans. I couldn't help it -- I started laughing. She glared at me. "It's not funny."

"No, of course not. I'm sorry," I said. I tossed my head to get my hair out of my eyes and straightened up a little, trying to look the very image of seriousness. But then the thought of Jeremiah slapping a wet doggy kiss on my friend's face made the smile come back.

"Stop it!" Leandra said, whacking me on the arm. She sipped at the cool water and hesitated a moment more before saying, "What are we going to do?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. What do you wanna do?"

"I...I don't know." She looked out to the yard and grimaced when she saw Jeremiah scratching his neck with his back foot.

"Well, what do you want me to do? Should I stay? We could call someone..." I looked at her from the corner of my eye, gauging her reaction. Leandra simply shrugged at everything I said and stayed silent. I leaned back against the door. If she wasn't going to want to call the police or animal control or something, there really wasn't much I could do. I looked at Jeremiah, who was sitting silently outside. "What's he doing?"

"He said the stars were really pretty and told me to go grab some blankets so we could lay out and look at them," Leandra said. She sounded pretty miserable. I hid a smile by focusing on my confusion.

"Oh," was all I said that time. This was followed by an eloquent, "Ummm." Leandra looked me in the eyes and then patted me on the arm.

"You should go home," she said. I raised my eyebrows, thinking she was just trying to be nice.

"You're sure?" She nodded and looked out at Jeremiah, who was still waiting.

"He won't hurt me or anything. We'll just stargaze a while and then I'll go home, too," she said. I pursed my lips, thought for a sec, and then decided to do as she suggested.

"Call if you need me, lady," I said as I walked out the front door. I didn't hear her answer.

---

Teia was amused my my late arrival, as she proved when she bounded into me when I got home. I barely had time to keep my keys from stabbing her in the stomach.

"You deserted me!" she said dramatically, throwing her head to one side and pretending to be distressed.

"Hardly," I said, struggling to breathe in Teia's death grasp. "Leandra had some problems. Problems worse than you being physically unable to throw away junk." Teia dropped her arms and grinned mischievously.

"Junk you gave me," she said as I moved past her into the kitchen. Natalie , the other little sister, was standing in front of a mixing bowl holding a whisk in one hand and a spatula in the other.

"Because you asked for it!" I yelled. Teia laughed and I heard her thunder up the stairs to her room. It was probably mostly empty by now, and I did feel a slight twinge of guilt as I plopped into a chair by the counter, watching Natalie navigate a recipe. Just as she was leaning past me to grab an egg sitting in the spoon holder by the sink, she made a face.

"You smell weird," she said.

"Gee, thanks."

"And you're covered with black hairs. Stop leaning on the table!" she added suddenly when I put my elbows up. "Out! Out of my kitchen! You're going to get fur in everything!" I stuck my tongue out at her and went to flop on the couch in the living room, but I only made it to the floor.

Laying there on my back, I stared blankly at the vaulted ceiling and decided that stretching would feel really good. I straightened out and lifted both of my feet, keeping my legs straight as long as possible. When my feet were nearly touching the floor behind my head, I held them there and marveled at how wonderful it felt. Teia came pounding down the stairs.

"That looks comfy," she said sarcastically and giggled.

"Shut up and try it yourself before you judge me," I said. "I am comfortable." She shook her head and went into the kitchen for a moment. I heard the fridge door open and close, and then she was back, but moving toward the front door.

"Meeting Isaac," she said. I dropped my legs and rolled over, mouth open to question her, but the door slammed shut and she was gone. I rolled again so I could see Nat and I propped myself up on my elbows.

"Do we know Isaac?" I asked, though I knew the answer. Natalie shrugged and shook her head. "Didn't think so."

I had just made it back down to my room when I heard my phone start to ring. Every happy thought inside of me that had been thinking about reading and then going to bed jumped off a cliff when I glanced at the caller ID. Leandra. I knew I shouldn't be rolling my eyes at a time like this, but hey, I was tired, and, I remembered at that moment, I hadn't eaten dinner.

"Hey," I said as I flipped the phone open. "What's up?"

"Oh, god, Meli, you have to come back," Leandra said. I immediately ran back up the stairs. That was real terror in her voice.

"What? What's wrong? What happened?" I scrambled to find my keys. Where had I put them? The table? No, not on the table. Crap. Maybe in my...no. Shoot. OK, keys, call to me, I thought.

"I...I don't know! One minute we were just lying there, talking, and the next....oh, Meli." I found the keys were they always are -- on the hook in the front closet.

"What?!?" I yelled. Leandra was obviously not thinking very quickly. She was speaking quickly, but only in groups of three or four words at a time. And then she just stopped like that, and everyone knows that when someone stops before telling you something that made them call you with horror haunting their words, well, you just know it's not gonna be good.

"He killed a bunny!" I stopped suddenly on my way out the door, my fingers on the handle. I thought for a few seconds, sure that Leandra had said something else. My phone had to have messed that one up. Either way, I was much calmer and prone to patience, and since I couldn't come up with anything else that she might have said (Killed the money? What? No.), I asked her to repeat what she'd said.

"We were on the grass, and I had my hand on his back, and then...and then....he jumped up and he killed a little baby bunny!" I almost dropped the phone I was laughing so hard. Needless to say, it's a good thing she couldn't see me at that moment, because, oh man, did I lose it. Completely.

"Did he save some for you?" I asked. I heard her gasp.

"Meli! That's disgusting!"

"Hey, now, I'm just sayin'....if the man wants to put food on the table...." I said.

"Could you come over? Please? It's getting worse."

"What do you mean?" I asked, swallowing my laughter as I heard her new, quieter tone. I used her pause to yell at Natalie that I was leaving again and shut the door.

"Can you just come?" I nodded even though she couldn't see or sense it and started my car.

"Ten minutes," I said. Leandra thanked me and I flipped the phone shut and dropped it in my cup holder between the front seats. I don't usually speed too terribly, but I shortened the ten minute drive to Jeremiah's place to about six minutes, which is impressive, I think. Just as I pulled up, I mused that maybe by "come over" Leandra had meant to her place, but I shook my head at that one, because of course she wouldn't have left him yet. I got out of my car and found myself walking very, very slowly up to the door.

Leandra met me there; her hair was running loose and looked a little static-y, and the free strands made her wide open eyes look profoundly stricken. Without a word she led me through the small home and to the back yard where, illuminated gently by the moonlight, I could see tufts of white fur scattered all over the grass. Jeremiah was lounging in doggy form against the step, and he was gnawing on something.

The smell of blood suddenly hit me, and I dry retched a little. When my second grade class had gone on a field trip to the Natural History Museum downtown to watch a lamb's heart dissection, I had swooned -- yes, swooned -- and barely made it out the door before fainting full out on the disgustingly decorated, unpadded carpet of the Hall of Life. Blood and I aren't friends.

Jeremiah heard me (probably smelled me, too) and looked up at me, grinning with teeth covered in baby bunny blood. "Hey, Meli," he said. Weird to hear your name coming from the murderous fangs of your friend's fiance.

"Hi, Jer. Uh... whatcha got there?"

"Dinner. Cooked up some rabbit." I glanced at Leandra with my eyes squinted, hoping for an explanation. She looked at me with a look along the lines of "I told you so" and then motioned for me to pay attention. As if I wanted to miss any of this.

Leandra knelt down near his head, so that he still had to look back at us a little, and said, "Jer? Honey? Is your fur keeping you warm enough?" Jeremiah looked at her with so much confusion brimming in his eyes that my jaw dropped as I began to comprehend.

"Fur? Oh, you mean my jacket? Sure, it's fine. Still pretty warm out." Leandra stood and looked me in the eyes. The light from the kitchen door swathed her face in a slightly yellow glow that almost made her brown eyes look gold. I doubt she could see me very well. I stared at Jeremiah for a second, trying to piece things together, and then I shot my hand out and yanked Leandra inside with me. I pulled her into the kitchen and made a lot of noise by pulling a cup out of the cupboard and turning on the sink for water.

"He doesn't know he's a monstrous, furry brute of a fanged killer thing!" I hissed, trying to get all of my feelings into one sentence. I think I succeeded. I didn't even hesitate before adding, "He killed a baby bunny!" Oh, yes, I said it. And without laughing, too.

"I know!" Leandra said. "What did you think I meant?" I took a few big gulps of water, trying to calm myself by filling my belly. I stared out the window.

"How can you not know that your body popped itself out of human mode and into wolf mode? How? It's not possible, I tell you! It's not!" Leandra put her hand on my arm, and I stuck my nose in my glass again, briefly wishing that Jeremiah believed in liquid stronger than caffeinated coffee.

"SShhhh! He'll hear you!" Leandra said, throwing a glance toward the back door.

"'Oh, you mean my jacket?'" I mumbled, imitating Jeremiah's voice. "Oh, it's very warm. Hi, guys, I'm a black-eyed killer from your nightmares, if you don't mind please would you set the bunnies loose?" I flexed my fingers in front of Leandra's face and made wild hand motions to emphasize key points of my tiny monologue, but she ignored me. At least, she pretended to.

"Shut up! We have to figure out what to do," Leandra said. She pinched my arm and I snapped out of my little reaction just in time to stave of the hyperventilating. I put the glass down and lowered my arms at the same time, as though pressing my irrationality into the nether regions of the house.

"Well," I said, weighing my words. "Do you have any silver bullets?"

Go away, fishy fishy fishy

I should probably apologize for not blogging since, well, I don't even know when. But I hate excuses, so I'm not sorry.

We recently went on a cruise to Progresso and Cozumel, Mexico. I hope you enjoy this short story:

The ship pulled into the harbor at 8 am, and there was no mistaking that this was going to be the most terrifying day of my life so far. The water was clear, like the water in a swimming pool with a bright blue floor at the bottom. My mother and sister were grinning, excited to feel the water around their legs. I put on my swimsuit as slowly as possible, and then to make up for it I threw on my shorts and tank top without bothering to really make sure that they matched. Whatever. I was going to take them off anyway.

On the pier I tried to stall by taking pictures of the other cruise ships, which were, in a word, ginormous. There were people everywhere, fat farmer-tanned tourists posing in skimpy swimsuits and being in general an embarrassment to American society. We walked quickly, following my determined mother through the duty-free shops to the taxi line-up. After a ten minute, ten dollar ride, we were at Chankanaab Park, a resort-style national park made of a beach and the water. Walking through the slightly damp, warmish air, we found the dolphin enclosure and watched for a few minutes as tourists were led through an amusing series of hand motions and sound-makings that make the dolphins jump and nicker.

After we rented snorkeling gear, we dropped our clothes on a trio of wooden beach chairs and walked the ten feet to the wall. The beach was made of beautiful white sand and didn't blend softly into the water like normal beaches. No, here it was bluntly stopped by a solid wall of grayish black stones, and the only safe way into the water was to climb down the metal stairs placed intermittently along the beach.

There weren't too many people in the water yet. It was, after all, still only 10 am. My mother and sister jumped in the water and were about ten feet out before stopping to look at me. My grip on the handrail tightened when I saw a tiny striped fish stroll past my ankle. Taking another step down those stairs was definitely not an option. My lungs were small and tight and another fish showed up, and the two little buggers just sat there, talking or something, while I tried to remind myself that fish are friends, and I am not their food.

All of a sudden a kid barreled past me and launched himself into the water, practically killing me in the process. I decided that having a heart attack and then drowning was not an exciting enough death for me, so I forgot where I was and dove.

The water was cold at first, and I squealed when it hit my stomach, but with the snorkel tube in my mouth, the sound reverberated off of nothing important or cool. I kept my head above the water like a preschooler doing the doggy paddle and with a couple of kicks I was treading water next to my little sister, who grinned at me. We swam out a little more, and they were busy sticking their heads under water while I looked at the clouds. My sister came up from a dive and cocked her head at me.

"You're going to have to look under the water," she said. Oh, really? Who says? I closed my eyes and was going to put my head under like that, but the memory of that little kid on the stairs flashed in my mind and I knew it was ridiculous, but there was no way a little kid was going to best me. I held a deep breath -- silly since I had the snorkel in my mouth -- and dropped my face into the water.

We weren't above any coral, but 25 feet or so below us, on the ocean floor, was a baby forest of sea plants. They looked like the dead bushes that "good" neighbors complain about after a month of having no time to do any gardening. I didn't see any fish. I didn't feel anything brush my leg. Nevertheless, the first thing I did when I lifted my face after two seconds was scream.

Ok, so the scream was more of a low squeal, and it was through the snorkel, so really it sounded like a scream sounds when you're dreaming about screaming, but you're really not. It was muffled and sounded even more ridiculous than it really was. My sister laughed at me. A few minutes later, I tried it again, this time forcing myself to be silent and brave. The barracuda almost convinced me to get out of the water, but when I turned away a school of gray fish was weaving its way toward me.

I reached out and poked my sister in the stomach; she turned towards me, saw the fish, and screamed. Then, of course, we both started laughing. They were largeish gray fish (maybe bluestriped grunt fish, but we don't know) who, I promise you, looked like they knew that we didn't want them near us.

My sister screamed again, and I screamed, and then we both laughed. The fish were swimming right past our faces, now, and no matter where we swam, they followed us. We tried kicking at them, but they just floated lazily out of reach before coming right back up to us. What followed was the perfect sisterly bonding experience: five minutes of screams followed by hysterical laughter. Laughing with a snorkel mask on is not, I repeat, not, easy.

After two hours, two barracudas, one trumpet fish, a gazillion gray creepy fish, a stingray and a jellyfish, my mom let us get out of the water. On the way out we found all the cute colorful fish, and that wasn't nearly as creepy as everything else.

An hour later they made me get back in the water again. It took two more hours, a water snake, and a bunch of jellyfish to get them out again.

Moral of the story? Go snorkeling in Cozumel, it's awesome.

Florida red ants

When I was about 8 or 9, my family went to Florida on vacation. Apparently we went there a couple of times, but I only really remember this one time. My parents own a timeshare, so when we go on vacation, we sometimes get to stay in really awesome resorts. This time, we were in a huge, sprawling monstrosity of amazingness that was complete with several indoor and outdoor pools, hottubs, tennis courts, raquetball courts, arcades, and restaurants. The only problem with this place, honestly, was that it was in Florida, because I hate humidity.

It just so happened that staying in the area was a former tennis star, and I had a very keen interest in tennis (I went through two seasons or so of private and group lessons). So my parents decided to be awesome and got me lessons with this lady while the rest of my family just kind of chilled at the courts. Rather, they didn't chill, because it was so hot. But anyways.

My younger sisters were about 5 and 2, or something like that. While I was having my lessons and my parents were sitting in the shade drinking lemonade and water, they were running around the courts, chasing after my stray balls. After about half an hour, they grew tired, like small children usually do, and decided to explore the shade.

One of the corners of the court was torn up a little, like someone with a mini drill had been given a little too much free time. And in this corner, under the torn up green and red surface, was a colony of ants. Now, Bri and Steph knew what ants were. Who doesn't? But they had never actually had the chance to understand how many different types of ants there are. So these ants were cool and special, because, unlike all the boring ants from Colorado, which were black, these ants were red. Ooooooo....pretty!

My sisters started playing with the ants, giving them love in the best ways they could think of. And then Bri got a simply fantastic idea: Mommy and Daddy just had to meet their new friends! She reached down and tried to pick up one of the pretty new pets, but he ran away from under her fingers. The next time, she just let one of the ants come to her. He crawled up her fingernail, and moseyed up to her knuckle.

Bri lifted her hand close to her nose, so she could look at him, and started to stand up. I was on the other end of the court, listening to how to properly extend my arm during a serve. And then there was screaming. Oh, how she screamed.

Bri flung her hand in the air and ran towards my parents; a very confused Steph screamed once or twice and then ran after her. Waving her chubby little finger in the air, Bri realized that her little red friend was still hanging on for dear life, and she screamed again and started crying. I, however, couldn't help but laugh. And when I laughed, so did Steph, and that just made Bri more sad. For the last days of our vacation, Bri had a mini red welt on the tip of her pointer finger, and every time she looked at it, her big blue eyes would fill up with a crazy amount of tears.